


The Least Among Us, Or: Meditations On Grief

by thetaCriterion



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood Spoilers, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mild canon divergence, Non-Chronological, foregone conclusion, i will ship my oc with a minor character and there is NOTHING you can do to stop me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 19:15:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19933132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetaCriterion/pseuds/thetaCriterion
Summary: Eorzea is ever a land haunted by death. Both the land and those living in it bear the scars of tragedy, and the only alternative to healing is to buckle under their weight. But healing never promised to be easy, as one Warrior of Light now understands far too well.





	1. The Realm Reborn chronicle: Corpse Groom

### 1\. The Realm Reborn chronicle: Corpse Groom

Timeline

**[1] Corpse**

When the haze of his ruminations lifted, Axzem found himself standing at the doors to the Waking Sands as he had so many times before, in days past. Whether by habit, or by some machinations of his mind yet unknown to him, his legs had borne him there without so much as consulting him. Briefly, he considered turning back before making his presence known-- then heaved a sigh and opened the door.

A pall of quiet hung over the halls of the Scions’ former offices, absorbing the sound of his steps like a woolen blanket. The more bustling days of the Waking Sands were well behind it, but there was one occupant he was sure to find there.

Tucked in a corner of the mess hall, his notes and journals and sundry literature spread out on a table and illuminated by candlelight, a gaunt Elezen form sat hunched in silent contemplation-- one Urianger Augurelt, resident scholar of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. So absorbed was he in his studies, Axzem paused briefly to consider how he might approach without startling the man.

“Thy arrival passeth not beneath my notice, master Hildegard,” Urianger said suddenly, breaking Axzem from his reverie. “Comest thou here on business for the Scions? I’ve not heard of aught from the Antecedent that requireth my attention of late.” He had not even looked up from his reading, but plainly less escaped his notice than Axzem had given him credit for. 

“Oh. No, no business, as such,” he replied. “I’ve merely come to, ah--” he was forced to pause and consider his own motives anew, for the decision to come here hadn’t even been a conscious one. “--To visit? I found myself in the environs, you see, and…”

“Pray say no more,” Urianger interrupted him, placing a bookmark in the tome he had been studying and gingerly closing it. “As circumstance would have it, ‘twas nearly time for me to put up my studies and break fast. I would have thee join, shouldst thou feel so inclined.”

“I-- oh. Breakfast?” It was so banal an offer that it should not have warranted surprise, but he had not known Urianger to be given to social affairs at all-- much less offering to share a meal unbidden. On further thought, Axzem wasn’t certain he had ever even seen the man _eat_.

But as his thoughts slowly made their way round to the _specific_ meal he had been offered, the realization finally dawned that he must have been out all night-- and the growling in his stomach and fatigue in his body paid no heed to his doubts. “Yes,” he said at length. “That sounds like _exactly_ what I need right now.”

The meal consisted of frumenty and fried puk eggs with a glass of La Noscean orange juice, and took about half a bell to prepare all told. Though Axzem offered his help in the task, the time passed mostly in silence-- a couple terse instructions, as Urianger was the more experienced culinarian of the two, but no real conversation to speak of. And for a time, it seemed as though the meal would proceed much the same way; but after a minute or two, Urianger finally broke the silence.

“Pray taketh not my directness for hostility, master Hildegard, but I would have thee tell me the real reason for thy visit, if thou wouldst. Scarcely can I offer counsel while blind to the nature of thy ails.”

Caught on his back foot, Axzem let out a guffaw before he could reign it in. Had he honestly allowed himself to believe he hadn’t come here for a reason? Urianger was right, of course; it could not possibly have been for a social visit that he had dragged himself here at the crack of bloody dawn. There’d certainly been a reason-- whether he knew it consciously or not-- and the more he focused his thoughts, the more a suspicion grew in him of what it might be.

“I’ve just returned from the Tam-Tara Deepcroft,” he said at length.

“Oh?” Urianger paused, seeming to think about this for a moment. “Thou hadst already excised the Lambs of Dalamud from its halls some time ago, to my recollection.”

“Aye, and they’ve not seen fit to return since,” Axzem said, nodding. “‘Twas other business that called me there-- which is a tale all its own, truth be told.”

And thus did he unfold the tale: of an old acquaintance, Paiyo Reiyo, beseeching his aid, having received a wedding invitation from an old comrade-in-arms; the bride, the lady Edda Pureheart; the groom, her deceased beloved Avere. The venue was to be the Tam-Tara Deepcroft.

“Ill omens, all, to be sure,” Urianger observed.

“And the omens only compounded from there,” Axzem continued, “for one of the guests was Liavinne, who perished here in the Waking Sands when it was raided by imperials.”

Liavinne’s grave, empty and freshly disturbed, had been the last straw for Paiyo. Sparing hardly a word, he turned and made for the Deepcroft with all haste, swearing to settle this mystery once and for all-- Axzem following, distraught, in his wake. Whether they would find Edda there rousing the very dead from their sleep, or simply lost in a mad reverie born of her grief, he couldn’t have guessed.

* * *

What he found, of course, was not one or the other, but something of both. In the heart of the Deepcroft, atop a platform suspended above the fathomless depths, they found Edda, accompanied by a hulking mass of flesh fashioned into the vague semblance of a living thing-- animated by what magicks Axzem dared not speculate-- to which she cooed and whispered sweet nothings as if it really were her lost lover made whole again.

The beast, for its part, showed no sign of sentience in spite of the way Edda spoke to it; not even the faintest light gleamed from behind its glassy eyes. Even as it lunged to attack, It babbled wedding vows like a clockwork doll made to sing a mechanical song, showing no awareness of the meaning behind the words it spoke. And even still, Edda cheered for the creature, as if the spectacle she was witnessing were a sparring match between old friends and not a white-knuckled fight for survival between man and voidsent beast.

Only by bringing his strongest magicks to bear was he able to equal the creature in strength; after what felt like an eternity of struggling, the forces that animated it were at last spent, and it collapsed, deflated and formless, to the ground.

It was as though Edda were a marionette, and her strings cut; she who had, scarcely a moment before, been joyful, now slumped to the ground and wailed in agony. “ _How?_ No, no, this can’t-- my darling, my sweet-- no sooner than you return to me-- oh, Avere… I cannot, not again, not like _this_ \--”

“Edda--!”

“ _You!_ ”

Like the crack of a whip, her disposition changed once more, eyes now blazing with rage and indignation even as the tears streamed from them.

“Axzem Hildegard! My one-time friend! Scion of the Seventh Dawn! Warrior of Light! _How could you_ , Axzem? My Avere… my dear, sweet Avere…”

“This has to _stop_ , Edda! This is no way to honor his memory!”

“ _And what would you know?_ ” She snapped. “What would you know of this pain? To have my beloved so cruelly taken from me… to look into his eyes, and see nothing looking back… What could _you_ know of it?”

A flash of blue and red flickered before his mind’s eye.

“...More than I care to.”

Edda went quiet for a moment. “So you _do_ know.”

Axzem nodded.

“All the more reason you should _understand_ , then!” She pleaded. “Wouldn’t you do _anything_ to be with your lost love again? Is there any length you wouldn’t go to, to be reunited again? So… _how?_ How can you say that you wouldn’t do the same, given the chance? Don’t you owe your beloved that much, at least?”

“I… I owe my beloved better than that _thing_.” But in spite of himself, Axzem felt his pulse quicken and his face grow hot.

“How _dare_ you! My resurrection may have been imperfect, but you needn’t speak so cruelly of my Avere!”

“ _That_ … was _not_ Avere, Edda.”

“Of… of course it was.” She took a step away from Axzem. “I did everything right… all the right components, the theory was sound…” Another step back. “And I pulled his aether back from the lifestream, I’m sure of it! So how--” 

Another step back. But there was no ground beneath her back foot to catch her.

* * *

\- - - - -

* * *

If Urianger was perturbed by the harrowing tale, he hid it expertly. Quiet contemplation was all Axzem could see in his face.

“So the lady Pureheart thought thee remiss, that thou didst not go to the same lengths as she to revive thy departed love. Takest thou her words for sooth?”

Axzem thought about this for several moments.

“Logically… no. Once the soul leaves the body, there should be no retrieving it.”

Urianger nodded. “Aye, thou hast the right of it. To retrieve the aether of the departed from the lifestream would be like unto pouring one’s drink into the sea and expecting to scoop it back out again as it once was. But to hear thee tell of it, the lady Pureheart did drink deep of the salt water and convince herself ‘twas a fine wine.”

“Easier, perhaps, than admitting her dearest was truly gone. Not just ‘gone’, as if he had merely left, and remained hale and whole in some other place, on some other star; but that the very stuff of his being simply no longer existed.” Axzem heaved a deep sigh. “I confess I find it all too easy to understand why she would find the idea so intoxicating. Her words would not have… reached me... the way they did, had I not spent many restless nights of late on the same hopeless fantasy of bringing my own love back to life.”

“I _had_ pondered whether thou wert truly so unshaken as thou wouldst have had lady Pureheart believe,” Urianger said, at last cracking a smile.

“ _Quite_ shaken, regrettably,” Axzem said with a laugh. “So lost was I in my own thoughts, I had wandered all the way _here_ before I returned to my senses. I must have spent _bells_ in a stupefied haze.”

Urianger’s smile faded. “And not so much as _one_ of them in repose? Surely thou wilt be requiring rest ere long.”

“Soon, like as not. But not now. I find myself energized by putting all this to words in friendly company.” Axzem sat back in his chair, finally letting his tensed shoulders relax. “I _must_ thank you, Urianger, for hearing my story-- for going so far as to pry it out of me, even! You’ve gone beyond your call for my sake today, truly. Thank you.”

There was no change in Urianger’s expression, but he took a moment to adjust his goggles. “I know thy burden well, and am all too glad to help thee bear it, so far as I am able.”

“I-- oh, of course.”

Urianger, too, had lost someone close to him, nearly as recently as Axzem. Moenbryda, a scholar of Sharlayan, had recently joined the Scions of the Seventh Dawn to help them confront the primal Shiva. But in the trials that followed, she sacrificed her own life to save the rest of them, and the lives of many others besides. Axzem was given to understand that the two shared some history, though he knew little of the specifics.

“I cannot find fault in thee for forgetting. Thine own sorrow was by far the heavier in thy heart compared to mine, as well it should be.”

“Were you two…?”

“On _that_ subject, I would fain not tread, if thou wouldst be so merciful.”

“Oh. Yes, of course,” Axzem said, duly chastised. “It was not my intention to pry.” He supposed Urianger was not seeking a sympathetic ear as he had been. In hindsight, that was _far_ more like him.

“Nay, curiosity is no cause to apologize. Perhaps another time. But if thou art still more inclined to speak of thy woes than I, I would fain satisfy my own curiosity on a few matters.”

Axzem nodded. “I fear I could speak on it for _moons_ , if you let me. What did you want to know?”

“Thy choice of words about thy departed love seems to imply a much more recent passing than I anticipated. I confess I had not known of thy loss, though by all accounts I would infer it transpired during the course of thy service to the Scions. I would hear the tale from thee, if the telling would not be too onerous.”

“No more onerous than keeping it secret, I’m sure. Yes, I think I’m _quite_ prepared to speak of it openly.” Axzem took a drink He had told much already, but there was much and more yet to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please be kind i havent written fic in like a decade sob


	2. The Realm Reborn chronicle: The Least Among Us (α)

### 2\. The Realm Reborn chronicle: The Least Among Us (α)

Timeline

**[2] Least (α)** \- [1] Corpse

“Wilred… dead? Mayhap _murdered?_ By the Twelve! How can that be!?”

Axzem could barely feel the floor beneath his feet. His extremities were as ice, while his head by contrast burned white-hot. He doubted he could take another step, even if it were the entire Garlean empire before him and not Minfilia, antecedent of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. He was not sure how he had even summoned the will to speak the words to her.

“I will send word to Alphinaud at once. He will want to conduct a full investigation, and send word to Wilred’s family…” 

Axzem’s silence at last caught her attention. “Oh. My apologies. You two were… close, were you not?”

Whether it was born of ignorance or a studied attempt to spare his feelings, the understatement was as a dagger through Axzem’s chest. He could only manage a weak nod.

“I scarce know what to say. I can but offer my sincerest condolences.” She put a hand to her heart, a pained expression spreading over her face. “Gods… he was just a boy. Who would do this-- and why?”

* * *

“Just a boy”, she had said, and she was not the first to speak of him thus. Rarely did Axzem hear the same said of himself, though he and Wilred were not far different in age; Axzem with scarcely more than a score of namedays behind him, and Wilred with scarcely less. Their relationship was not a matter of public knowledge, though there were rumors, and not all of them spoken kindly.

To be a Warrior of Light was to be regarded as, in a way, _above_ one’s fellow man-- it was not a truth Axzem much liked, but it was a truth nevertheless. The idea that he might focus his attentions, romantic or otherwise, on a “mere” cadet of the Crystal Braves struck some, he supposed, as scandalous. Their searching eyes and unquiet whispers seemed eager to spin a story where Wilred was some sort of dirty secret Axzem was hiding to preserve his reputation. Or, less charitably, to cast him in the role of a scheming tempter with eyes on the prestige and status that he could surely claim if he bedded a Warrior of Light. 

Status, _hah_. Even when Wilred was murdered in cold blood, the ones who spun the rumors could barely be bothered to notice he was gone. Axzem could hardly imagine what status they thought he was winning, but it clearly wasn’t enough for any of them to so much as remember his name. He had never been more than a bit character to them, a shadow puppet cast by Axzem’s radiant fucking Light.

But some, for a mercy, were kinder than that. The day after Axzem delivered the news to Minfilia, Alphinaud came through the doors of the Rising Stones and cast a glance uncertainly about, before settling on Axzem-- who, for his part, had been sitting at a table all day, sipping a cup of chamomile tea and keeping his own counsel.

“Thank the Twelve. I had hoped I would find you here.”

The twiggish Elezen boy jogged up to Axzem’s table, a cloth-wrapped parcel in tow. “I hope this day finds you well, or… as well as can be expected, considering the circumstances. I am truly sorry, friend.”

Those were the kindest words any had graced him with since he left the solar the previous day, and a smile crept across Axzem’s face unbidden. “Not _well_ , Alphinaud, but it finds me just the same, and that will have to do for the moment.” He eyed the parcel in Alphinaud’s hands. “Was there something…?”

“Indeed. This is for you,” Alphinaud said, handing the parcel over. “Or rather, not _for_ you, as such, but… perhaps I should start from the beginning. In the wake of Wilred’s death, as you may already be aware, it fell to me to deliver the news to Little Ala Mhigo. I did so as soon as time and circumstances allowed, but in my haste, I neglected one detail: I had intended to deliver Wilred’s uniform to them there, as a memento of sorts, but the garment was still being prepared when I made my initial sojourn. Now that the uniform is presentable, I thought perhaps it would be appropriate if, ah, _you_ delivered it to Gundobald. If you would find it amenable.”

Axzem eyed the parcel. “May I…?”

“Of course. Take all the time you need.”

Axzem pulled at the string binding the package, and carefully unwrapped it. The brilliant blue of a Crystal Braves uniform peeked out from the dull gray, and Axzem extracted it gingerly to get a better look at it.

The uniform had been washed of blood and expertly mended. But Axzem was a defter hand with a needle than most, so even the careful needlework could not hope to hide from him the long horizontal gash in the stomach of the garment, valiantly though it tried. He felt a swelling in his throat and a burning heat in his eyes.

He replaced the uniform in the parcel as dexterously as he was able without looking directly at it, which was not very. Alphinaud stepped in to help him.

It felt like a full minute or more before Axzem spoke again. “I… I’ll do it,” he said, greatly laboring to commit to the utterance. “I’ve something I wish to discuss with Gundobald, anyway-- so this is rather fortuitous, in a way.”

“Oh? What might that be, if I may ask?”

“I had thought, perhaps, that Wilred might be interred at Saint Adama Landama’s, beside the fallen Scions from the Waking Sands. I know he wasn’t a Scion, but… I know of no better way to honor him in death. I would, of course, require Gundobald’s blessing, since he and Wilred’s family may prefer to inter him according to their own customs. I just pray the sentiment behind the offer is clear, even if he means to refuse.”

* * *

He was never quite sure the sentiment _was_ clear, since Gundobald dismissed the offer out of hand as if Axzem had been speaking the words of a madman. 

Gundobald-- The Bear, as Wilred and the other youth of Little Ala Mhigo had called him-- accepted the uniform graciously, even reverently. In dealing with Axzem, however, the man seemed to stumble. He spoke curtly and wasted no words, seeming all too eager to bring the interaction to a close.

As Axzem turned to leave, though, Gundobald had one final thing to say.

“Know this, Axzem Hildegard: For your aid in times past, Little Ala Mhigo owes you a debt that can never be repaid. That said…” he sighed, searching carefully for his next words. “...If ever again you have need of a strapping young soldier to join your cause… mayhap look elsewhere.”

The words sank into him like a knife. But even as their chill creeped down his neck, Axzem knew he could not leave them hanging in the air with no response.

“Little Ala Mhigo has paid too dearly already,” Axzem said, unable to meet Gundobald’s eyes. “More than it ever should have. More than I can hope to redress. Please, don’t consider yourselves in debt to me; Wilred was...” He had to stop to collect himself before he could continue. “Wilred was very dear to me. The chance to know him was its own reward.”

By the time Axzem was able to look up again, Gundobald had broken eye contact, intensely studying a spot on the ground. He gave a brief nod, but said nothing more. With that, Axzem excused himself. He knew he should return to the Rising Stones to make a report, but he needed to be alone.

* * *

\- - - - -

* * *

“The young Crystal Braves cadet found slain by an unknown hand at Urth’s Gift,” Urianger observed, some small amount of surprise betraying itself in his voice. “I had not known ‘twas thee who discovered the corpse, much less that thou wert so closely acquainted with the victim. Mayhap my condolences ring hollow at this juncture, but I feel compelled to offer them all the same.”

“Less hollow than you think, friend,” Axzem said. “Thank you.”

“Half the thanks are mine to give, methinks,” Urianger said, “that thou wouldst indulge my curiosity so thoroughly. I shall endeavour to repay thy trust by keeping thy tale in strictest confidence.”

“I… hm?” Axzem blinked. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. I think I…” He was suddenly aware that his entire body felt like lead, and his mind wasn’t far behind it. Urianger’s words had passed through him like dust through a sieve.

Urianger laughed. “‘Twould seem thy debt of rest hath come due. Come-- thou wilt find spare bedrolls in the storeroom. ‘Twill not be the comfortable accommodations thou art accustomed to, but thy condition will brook no further delay. Quickly now-- this way!”

Urianger stood up and motioned towards the door, and Axzem labored to follow him. The specter of fatigue having finally caught up to him, even a bedroll on a hard floor was a luxury he was ill inclined to refuse.


	3. The Realm Reborn chronicle: Recruiting The Realm

### 3\. The Realm Reborn chronicle: Recruiting The Realm

Timeline

**[3] Realm** \- [2] Least (α) - [1] Corpse

Alphinaud's plan seemed almost too good to be true; a realm-wide Grand Company, free from political ties to any one particular nation, acting in the interest of Eorzea as a whole. Had it been proposed by any other soul, Axzem might well have dismissed the idea as altogether too lofty to be realized.

Alphinaud, though, had a proven history of successful diplomatic endeavors that more than vouched for the plan's soundness in Axzem's eyes. The only thing they wanted for was the footwork to set the plan in motion, which he was only too happy to provide.

At present, Axzem strode through the streets of the desert city-state Ul'dah with purpose in his steps, the sun baking the top of his head and gleaming off of his white robes. He was tasked with finding bodies to fill the ranks of the burgeoning company while Alphinaud met with the various heads of state to set the paperwork in order and make everything official. One can hardly start an army without at least a few sword hands, after all.

His connections had already won him a fair few new recruits in Limsa Lominsa and Gridania, and Ul'dah was the final stop in their grand tour of the Eorzean Alliance's sovereign city-states. He'd been riding high on his previous successes, but so far the people of Ul'dah had proven a more skeptical audience to his overtures; even those with whom he was at least ostensibly friends. She was a merchant's city through and through, and her people had a reputation for shrewdness and pragmatism-- a reputation that, it would seem, was not entirely undeserved.

So it was that, having exhausted all other more obvious avenues, Axzem arrived at the Coliseum, home to the Gladiators' guild and the famous Bloodsands. He had few friends here, having seldom paid the place so much as a visit-- except to briefly attempt to learn the art of the sword at the guild, before ultimately giving it up. But he wasn't one to write it off nevertheless.

Luck was with him, for as he bent his path toward the guild, he heard a voice call for him from the crowd of people milling about the main forum.

"Axzem? Axzem Hildegard?" A young man in light armor with a sword sheathed at his side jogged up to him, eyes alight. He looked vaguely familiar, but Axzem couldn't place his face at a glance.

"I knew it! It _is_ you! You're the man who came to Little Ala Mhigo looking for that masked devil. I'm right, aren't I?" 

Suddenly the pin dropped, and Axzem knew where he'd met the young man before. "Wilred?"

He grinned and nodded vigorously. "Gods, to meet you again here of all places. I've been meaning to thank you, you know. Well, thank you again, that is." His voice fell slightly, and some of the energy drained out of him. "For what you did for us, I mean. Who knows what might've happened if you hadn't been there… I'd probably be dead, and a whole lot of my friends besides." He sighed and cradled his forehead in his hand. "Gods, we were such fools."

* * *

Little Ala Mhigo was a small hamlet in the desert of Southern Thanalan, home to a population of refugees from the nation of Ala Mhigo, from which the village drew its name. When Ala Mhigo was forcefully annexed as a territory of the Garlean Empire some 20 summers past, the other nations of Eorzea saw an influx of Ala Mhigans fleeing the Empire's iron rule. Axzem's family had been among them, though he was barely old enough at the time to even remember his father's homeland. His mother had family ties in Gridania that afforded them some measure of security when they returned to the Shroud, but most of those fleeing Ala Mhigo were not so fortunate. Little Ala Mhigo was one of the few places where the refugees had made a permanent home, but it could only accommodate so many.

When last Axzem had visited, the village had been the latest target of an Ascian plot to sow mayhem to gods only know what end. One of the mysterious villains had bequeathed the secret of Primal summoning unto a group of youths, taking advantage of the stewing hatred they held toward Garlemald to convince them to summon their patron deity, Rhalgr, that they might call his might down on the hated Empire. Wilred had spearheaded the group in their efforts to bring the plan to fruition. 

Needless to say, it was an altogether terrible idea. Even had they succeeded in the summoning, the might of a Primal is not wont to be wielded without exacting a heavy price, both for the wielder and for everyone and everything around them. It was to curtail the threat of the Primals that the Scions of the Seventh Dawn had been founded in the first place.

But Wilred and his friends had not the resources to attempt the summoning-- most notably, the treasure trove of crystals that would be needed to fuel it. And so they sought to steal them from the neighboring Amalj’aa, who often hoarded crystals to summon their own deity, Ifrit. They hadn't the faintest idea how outmatched they were.

In the Scions' hunt for clues to Ascian activity, Axzem happened upon rumors of a masked man visiting Little Ala Mhigo, and summarily uncovered the plot at the behest of the village elder, Gundobald. Wilred did not take Axzem's meddling kindly, suspecting him to be a Garlean spy; Axzem was unable to convince him otherwise before the encounter came to blows.

Wilred was soundly defeated in the ensuing fight, but not deterred in the least. Axzem had scarcely reported back to Gundobald before he received word that the plan was fast-tracked, and Wilred and friends had already launched their incursion on the Amalj’aa camp. Axzem was forced to intercede when they were inevitably caught and drew the ire of the Amalj’aa guards.

His timely intervention managed to save all their lives, but the entire ordeal had brought him no closer to his Ascian quarry. Wilred, chastised, muttered a reluctant apology and slinked away. That was the last Axzem saw of him for several moons.

* * *

Though the young man that now stood before him was undeniably Wilred, he seemed much changed. Far from shrinking away, he looked Axzem in the eyes with shocking intensity.

“I can’t hope to redress how I treated you back then, but I want it known that I’m grateful. So… thank you. For saving my life. For saving us all from our own idiocy, though we were strangers to you and you had no obligation to help us.”

His sheer sincerity stunned Axzem into silence for several seconds. But at last, a smile crept over his face. “I’m just glad you’re still alive to give thanks at all. It’s good to see you again, Wilred.”

Wilred stood agape for a moment, but then his grin returned twice as bright as before. He clapped Axzem on the back with such force that he briefly lost his breath. “Such a fortuitous reunion as this must be a sign from the Twelve. Come, the Quicksand’s not far from here. Let’s share a drink, my friend!” And with that, he dashed off, turning briefly to beckon Axzem to follow him.

After a while of dodging and weaving through the late afternoon crowds milling about the Gate of Nald, the two arrived at the doors of the Quicksand. Wilred opened the door for Axzem, making an exaggerated bowing motion to bid him enter first. Axzem laughed and returned the gesture, stepping inside with Wilred following close behind.

The Quicksand was home to the Ul’dah Adventurers’ Guild, and as was traditional, it was also a tavern. The particular alchemy of these twin roles ensured that the establishment was always bustling at any hour of the day or night, and now was no exception. Axzem weaved through the crowd toward the counter at the far end of the room, where the proprietress, Momodi, was at work setting glasses on the shelf behind the counter. She turned around at Axzem’s approach and her eyes brightened.

“Well if it isn’t the man of the hour!” The sprightly Lalafell woman hopped down from the stool she’d been standing on and climbed up the one at the counter to greet him. “Always a pleasure, love, but now more than usual! Come now, what’ll you have? Drinks are on the house today. For your friend too!” She waved at Wilred, who seemed taken aback but politely nodded in response. “Uh… Ale, if you please,” he said, quickly regaining his balance.

“I’ll have the mulled cider-- hold the rum, please,” Axzem said.

“As if you need to tell me that!” Momodi laughed. “A pint of ale and a _virgin_ mulled cider. Table’s just opened up, praise Thal. Right behind you-- there, that one. Off you trot! I’ll have those drinks ready before you know I’ve gone.”

The two sat down at the nearby table, and for the first time, Axzem took an undistracted look at Wilred. He was passingly handsome, truth be told, with skin the color of the sun's warmth and a prominence of golden hair atop his head. He was a midlander by all appearances, though Axzem knew him to be Ala Mhigan by blood. And he could not help but notice that Wilred's armor, typical minimalist gladiator attire, offered a nearly unobstructed view of his chest; he was a well-built young man. Axzem had to remind himself not to stare.

"So what did she mean by 'the man of the hour', then?"

Distracted despite himself, Axzem snapped to attention at the question.

"Oh. Well, I suppose I've gained some degree of repute lately-- largely for my part in Operation Archon."

Wilred's brow furrowed as he paused for several seconds, then his eyes widened.

"The one where all the Grand Companies of Eorzea banded together with the Scions to expel the XIVth legion from Castrum Meridianum? The one where the Garleans were sent packing from our borders, all but with their tails between their legs? _That_ Operation Archon?" 

"Aye, that's the one."

Wilred's mouth was agape.

"You couldn't have been… there's talk in every corner of the city that it was spearheaded by a group of heroes they're calling the Warriors of Light. You can't be…" 

Axzem was blushing profusely by now. "Some have taken to calling us that of late, yes." 

"That's-- _bloody--_ " Wilred was near to shouting, but he caught himself and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. "That's _incredible!_ What in Rhalgr's name have you been _up to_ all this time?" 

"Well… Scion business. Fighting Primals, hunting Ascians, that sort of thing."

" _Fighting_ bloody _Primals_ , he says, as if that's the sort of thing one does before taking afternoon tea! _Seven hells_ , man, I knew you were something special, but I didn't know the _half_ of it, did I?"

"Wilred, _please_ ," Axzem pleaded, covering his eyes, face flushed.

Wilred went quiet, sitting back in his chair. "Sorry. It's just… you were already _my_ hero, you know, but-- knowing you're the hero of _the whole bloody_ \-- sorry."

A few seconds passed in silence as neither of them knew what to say. At length, Wilred was the one to break the silence.

"For what it's worth… to me, you'll always be the man who saved my life. Warrior of Light comes second to that." He paused. " _Close_ second, maybe." 

Axzem smiled sheepishly. "Now _there's_ something I can be proud of." 

Wilred grinned. "Good. _Be_ proud. And if you ever get too modest, I'll tell you about it again. As many times as it takes."

"Not interrupting anything, am I, lads?" Momodi chose that moment to approach with their drinks. "That's a cider for our guest of honor, and some ale for _his_ guest of honor." They took the drinks out of her hands rather than make her reach up to the table.

"Do let me know if there's aught else I can get for you. Don't be shy now, you hear me?" She beamed as she turned back to man the counter again.

"Fine timing, I say," Wilred said, picking up his glass. "A toast. To your heroism." 

"Or to your good health, perhaps," Axzem said, smiling. 

"My good health _that I owe to your heroism_ , you daft--" Wilred laughed, then shook his head, sighing. "To our reunion, then." 

"To our reunion."

They clinked their glasses and partook of their drinks. When Axzem looked up from his glass, he saw that Wilred, face aglow, had not looked away from him even while sipping his drink. He smiled, and Wilred smiled back. 

"I'd been meaning to ask you, by the way," Wilred said after a moment. "About that scar over your eye. Parting gift from a slain Primal?" 

Axzem ran his hand over the scar, a vertical slash over his right eye. "Nothing so glorious as that, I'm afraid," he said with a chuckle. "Botany accident."

" _No!_ " Wilred guffawed, incredulous. "What sort of accident?"

"Grazed by a falling branch while harvesting from a tree back home in the Shroud. I was only 16 at the time, and just learning the trade from my father. Might well have lost my sight in this eye if my mother weren't such a dab hand at alchemy and medicines. Even still, it took a moon before I could open it again."

"You come from a talented family, I see. No surprise, having seen your own skill at conjury."

"My father would have your head if he heard you comparing conjury to botany. Stubborn old goat was always skeptical of any trade one couldn't make a living out of. Didn't approve of me going adventuring, either."

"But you _do_ make a living, don't you?" Wilred asked. "I don't mean to pry, but I should be quite surprised if an adventurer of your considerable talents wanted for profitable work." 

"I make do. I wouldn't call myself rich, but I make enough to feed and clothe myself, with enough left over to help support my parents back home. That's about all I could ask for."

"What, including the 'stubborn old goat'? The more I learn about you, Axzem, the harder you are to believe."

"Never you mind that. Now it's my turn to ask you about _your_ scars. I notice you have a few of them."

Wilred touched one scar, running from his forehead across the bridge of his nose. "Sparring match with Sifrid, couple years ago. Nicked my face with the tip of his blade." Then he touched the other, a diagonal line running from his jaw to his cheekbone. "Picked a fight with a sabotender when I was 10. Gave me a few more, too, on my arm and shoulder. Took _bells_ to get all the needles out. The old bear was _furious._ Rightly so, I reckon. Precocious little idiot, I was."

"Got a bit of a habit of picking fights, haven't you?" Axzem laughed. "Even picked one with me, as I recall." 

Wilred winced. "And it didn't go much better for me than the sabotender did. Probably the most well-deserved _and_ most important thrashing I've ever gotten."

"Only too happy to be of service," Axzem said with a mock bow. 

Wilred laughed. "Fighting's one of the only things I've ever been good at, anyroad, so you have the right of it. I always thought that if I was strong, I could keep all my friends and family in Little Ala Mhigo safe. Even harbored a foolish dream that if I only became strong enough, I could fight for my parents' homeland one day-- maybe even help free it from the Empire." He scoffed. "Well, we saw where _that_ led me, now, didn't we?"

Axzem smiled sadly. "It wasn't your dream that was wrong, Wilred. It was the Ascian who lied and told you that you could realize it by summoning a Primal."

"'Ascian', is that what that masked man was?"

Axzem nodded. 

Wilred's brow furrowed. "Who _are_ they?"

"I don't know. We know little and less about who they are or what they want. Only that they hold the secrets to Primal summoning, as well as a penchant for sowing those secrets wheresoever they'll do the most harm. As you well know." 

Wilred studied a spot on the table in silence. 

"Well, there's one thing you're wrong about," he said after a while. "The Ascian lied to me, yes, but _I_ was the fool who believed him. _That_ much of the blame still lies with me."

"That's hardly--" 

"No," Wilred interrupted. "I've made my peace with it. I'll not spend my days wallowing in guilt; I've taken it as a call to improve myself. I've learned that I need more than strength if I'm ever to achieve that dream-- or to fight the evil I now _know_ is out there." He smirked, though it looked a bit like a grimace. "If I'd spent so much as half a moon outside the walls of the village before the Ascian came, I'd surely have learned that summoning a bloody _Primal_ is a bad idea. That's why I've vowed to make of myself a more worldly man. So here I am."

"Certainly not the worst of lessons to take from all this," Axzem said, pensive. "Far be it from me to dissuade you from learning of the wider world."

His hand idly brushed the pamphlet stowed into his bag, and he suddenly remembered what he had originally come to do. 

"I may just be able to help with that, actually." 

He handed Wilred the pamphlet, a brief manifesto describing the nascent Grand Company, scrawled in Alphinaud's careful handwriting.

"A new company of champions," Wilred read, eyes skimming over it. "And it would take me to all corners of the world."

His eyes continued darting over the pamphlet, a smile slowly spreading over his face-- faint at first, then bright, then incandescent.

"You're right-- this sounds like _exactly_ the sort of opportunity I need." He eyed the pamphlet again. "Revenant's Toll, in Mor Dhona. That's where the Scions are based these days, isn't it?"

"Yes. You'll likely be working closely with us. It's all being arranged by one of my Scion companions, Alphinaud Leveilleur, and our Antecedent-- Minfilia-- will have the final authority as to the Company's doings."

Wilred's eyes fairly sparkled. "I… I can't wait. I have some preparations to see to first, but as soon as I'm able, I'll be there."

"Good. When you make it to Revenant's Toll, come find us at the Rising Stones." Axzem smiled and held out his hand. "I look forward to working with you."

Wilred, grinning ear to ear, took his hand and shook it vigorously. "Likewise. I'll prove to you that I'm not the same stripling you met in Little Ala Mhigo."

* * *

The two men shared lively conversation as they finished their drinks, whereupon Axzem reluctantly took his leave, wary of leaving Alphinaud to wait for too long. He bounded for the nearby Aethernet shard, a spring in his step, and took it straightaway to the Royal Promenade, where he found Alphinaud already waiting. 

"Well, Axzem!" he called out. "How fared you? What hidden gems did the streets of Ul'dah offer up to your unrelenting gaze?"

"Just one this time, I'm afraid. A young man of Little Ala Mhigo, met during my time investigating Ascian activity there. The rest of Ul'dah seemed disinclined to hear me."

Alphinaud smiled warmly. "Not to worry; 'tis only to be expected. You've certainly given us an admirable start, even if our ranks are yet somewhat thin." He cast a wistful look into the distance. "In these troubled years following the Calamity, talk of Eorzea's salvation must seem akin to grasping at clouds. But there are those who have risen to the challenge nonetheless. And the hope that inspires these people was born in no small part from the victories you yourself have won." He turned back to Axzem, a fire burning in his eyes. "Thank you, Axzem. I will not squander the precious gift you have placed into my keeping-- these recruits will become the foundation of a new beginning." 

With that, the two made to return to the Rising Stones, there to begin preparations-- both for the inaugural ceremony, and, they dared hope, a new era for Eorzea.


	4. The Heavensward chronicle: Coming to Ishgard

### 4\. The Heavensward chronicle: Coming to Ishgard

Timeline

[3] Realm - [2] Least (α) - [1] Corpse - **[4] Ishgard**

The icy winds of Coerthas pierced the walls of the chocobo carriage as it trundled along the road out of Camp Dragonhead. The weather had little to do with the somber mood inside, but it certainly didn't help matters. Axzem and Alphinaud sat in stony silence, while Tataru wringed her hands, her gaze darting back and forth between the other two.

"I… I know there's not much to celebrate," she ventured, nervously, "but we're all still unharmed, and we still have allies in Ishgard. With their help, I'm sure we'll find our friends in no time! So… chins up, hey?"

Tataru was the secretary of the Scions-- one of the rare members of the organization with no skill in combat, though she could work miracles with a ledger that Axzem could only dream of working with his staff. Warrior or no, he was glad to be in the company of a friend at a time like this, and gladder still that she was safe.

The royal banquet had come and gone, and with it came a whole new world of trials for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. It had ostensibly been a celebration for a united Eorzea-- thanks to the successful exploits of the Crystal Braves, and the end of Ishgard's long period of isolation. But the auspicious occasion soon took a turn for the tragic; the Sultana, Nanamo Ul Namo, assassinated, the Scions scapegoated for the crime, and the Crystal Braves-- or what remained of them-- turned traitorous. Even Raubhan, general of the Immortal Flames and staunch ally of the Sultana and the Scions both, had been routed in combat against Ilberd, captain of the Braves and leader of the turncoats.

With no allies left, the Scions had been forced to flee-- but not without a price. Nearly all of their ranks went missing during the escape; first Yda and Papalymo, then Y'Shtola and Thancred, and finally, Minfilia. Only Alphinaud and Axzem remained, and Tataru was only able to join them after beating a hasty retreat from the Rising Stones when the Braves fell upon it, nearly at the same time as the attack at the banquet. The scheme had been _quite_ coordinated.

The fates of the remaining Scions were yet unclear. Tataru was unsure how many others had been able to successfully flee the Rising Stones. Their linkpearls were useless; communications were likely being monitored, and any Scion stalwarts yet possessed of their senses would likely have destroyed theirs already.

Had Axzem's previous endeavors not ingratiated him to Haurchefant de Fortemps, member of one of the high houses of the Holy See of Ishgard, the dregs of their company would likely not have had a soul left in Eorzea to safely turn to. But as it was, Haurchefant was only too happy to leverage his influence to grant them safe haven in the walls of the insular city.

And thus, for the foreseeable future, Ishgard would be their home.

* * *

"I've scarce been able to stop turning it over in my head, despite myself," Alphinaud said-- chin most definitely not up. "Where did I err? It's all too clear that I was naïve to assume the Braves were incorruptible, but for them to have been so deeply in the pockets of the Syndicate… it defies comprehension." 

"The whole endeavor was likely rotten from the first," Axzem said. "Riol had a word with me recently, in private. There were all kinds of dodgy names in the Company ledgers; shell companies, all leading back to the Mirage Trust, and summarily, to Teledji Adeledji." 

" _Damnation_ ," Alphinaud muttered. "I was so confident I had thoroughly vetted our sources of funding. _Too_ confident, clearly." He paused. "Riol brought this to your attention? Why did he say nothing to me?" 

"You've been a busy man of late," Axzem observed. "Never far from potentially compromised eyes and ears. He likely judged it too great a risk. 'Twas Wilred who first spotted the discrepancies, and-- oh." He stopped, thunderstruck. "Oh, Gods _damn_ it." 

Alphinaud looked confused for a moment, before he caught on to Axzem's train of thought. 

"He wasn't just murdered," Alphinaud read Axzem's thoughts aloud, horrified. "He was _silenced_."

Axzem's hand tightened into a fist. "Put to the sword by one of his own allies. One of his _friends_. And all for this? It's… vile. _Disgusting._ "

Alphinaud buried his face in his hands. "Twelve curse me for a fool. This is all my fault. I… I am so, so sorry, Axzem. If I hadn't been so--"

Axzem shook his head, expression stony. "It was not your hand on the blade. Whoever's hand it was, they could have stayed it. They elected not to. Any fault of yours in this is easily forgiven, but _theirs_ , not so." Axzem's voice trembled under the weight of his words. "I will find the one who murdered Wilred, and I will have their _head_."

Alphinaud was stunned into silence, and Tataru let out a shocked _squeak_ and clapped her hands over her mouth.

"... In all my time knowing you…" Alphinaud said quietly after a minute, "... I have never once heard you relish in the idea of ending someone's life." 

"Relish it? Hardly. I shall hate every _second_ of it. But I should hate it _more_ if the killer is allowed to walk free, after all they have taken from me. From us," he said, "but also from me. Some poor fool has made the mistake of making this coup _very_ personal for one Warrior of Light." 

Alphinaud stared at the floor in silence for a time, then looked up and met Axzem's gaze, expression steely.

"Clearly," he said, "the world we live in is a crueler one than even I had surmised. It is in no small part due to my own surety that I had grasped the subtleties of that world that we were caught unawares by those who would do us harm. I shall have to endeavor to live in the world as it is, and not as I wish it were." He paused and took a deep breath. "That is why I shall not begrudge you your revenge. 'Twould be a terrible lie if I were to say it did not leave a bad taste in my mouth, and I would urge you to consider another path should one present itself, but… I am in no position to moralize at present. It was my very moralizing that set us on this path in the first place."

"Alphinaud." Axzem laughed and shook his head. "'Tis true that you oft have your head in the clouds, and you're given to moralizing-- sometimes to a fault-- but mark me, Alphinaud Leveilleur, _I would not have it any other way_."

Alphinaud was speechless for a moment, but then burst into a fit of laughter. "You are _too kind,_ friend. Truly," he said, surreptitiously wiping a tear from his eye.

"That said, I should be glad of your help," Axzem said. "And you have my word that, should the opportunity to see the killer tried and convicted within the law present itself, I shall consider that sufficient justice-- though I can scarcely imagine how we could get there from where we are now."

"Er, not to be a killjoy or anything," Tataru interjected, quietly, "but do we even have any ideas as to _who,_ specifically, killed him?" 

Axzem paused to think on this. "One of his compatriots from the Third, like as not," he said. "Laurentius or Yuyuhase. They were both among the turncoats at the banquet. One of them, or Ilberd himself." 

Alphinaud looked thoughtful. "That _would_ explain why there were no signs of a struggle. If the killer were someone Wilred knew and trusted, he'd have had no cause to doubt them until their blade was drawn, and by then it would likely have been too late." 

"I… I think we can rule out Laurentius," Tataru said, hesitantly. Alphinaud and Axzem both looked at her, surprised.

"I met him a few times. He was the one with the spear, wasn't he? The former Wood Wailer? I saw the cut on Wilred's uniform when they brought it in, and it wasn't made by a spear. It was long, like a sword. Did he ever use any other kind of weapon?" 

"Not that I am aware of," Alphinaud said. "Both Yuyuhase and Ilberd primarily used swords, so they both remain suspect. And we can't rule out the possibility that it was some other turncoat that Wilred knew in passing."

The three of them sat in silence for several minutes. Before any of them said a word, the Gates of Judgment, and beyond them, Ishgard, loomed into view in the window of the carriage.

"I believe we have nearly reached our destination," Alphinaud said, suddenly energized. "It will avail us little to think on this further in the absence of more information. Let us put our minds to the trials more immediately in front of us."

The carriage came to a stop in front of the gates, and the three Scions hopped out and approached. For the first time in recent memory, the gates of Ishgard stood open to the outside.


	5. The Realm Reborn chronicle: Brave New Companions

### 5\. The Realm Reborn chronicle: Brave New Companions

Timeline

[3] Realm - **[5] Brave** \- [2] Least (α) - [1] Corpse - [4] Ishgard

The Rising Stones was a whirlwind of activity when Axzem finally returned there. He’d had a busy few days aiding the Scions’ allies at Whitebrim Front, but he found Tataru no less harried than he had been. The Scions’ ever-faithful secretary was no stranger to being pulled in many directions at once, but even _her_ bright exterior had begun to crack under the weight of the last-minute preparations for the inaugural ceremony. She looked fit to collapse with relief when Axzem offered to take some of the workload off her hands.

“Would you be a dear and hand these uniforms to the new recruits?” She handed him a parcel stuffed to bursting with neatly-folded ultramarine uniforms and a scrap of parchment with hastily-written notes. “They're scattered about Revenant's Toll and I haven't the time to track them all down! You haven’t met some of them yet, I think, so I’ve written down all their names and descriptions to help you find them. And _thank you_ , Axzem.”

She took one last look at the uniforms, a sparkle in her eyes. “I wonder if the Scions will ever have matching uniforms… A well-funded organization is a well-dressed organization, I suppose!”

* * *

Revenant’s Toll was no sprawling metropolis, but it _was_ fairly packed with people, rendering the task of locating a few specific recruits more difficult than Axzem expected. Still, Tataru’s notes guided him well, and even when he made a mistake, the locals were sympathetic-- being mistaken for someone else by a Warrior of Light was far from the deadliest of insults, he supposed. There were a number of familiar faces among the recruits, but it seemed prudent to use the opportunity to introduce himself to those he hadn’t met yet, of which there were a handful as Tataru had said.

When Axzem was nearing the end of the list, though, he smiled to see one familiar name in particular among the bunch-- Wilred. His business in Coerthas had prevented him from welcoming Wilred to the Rising Stones as he’d wanted to, but it seemed he would not be further robbed of the chance to see him.

As it would happen, Wilred did not evade him for long-- Axzem found him wandering the market stalls, in a familiar pantomime of someone trying to look like he knew where he was going when he absolutely did not know where he was going. Axzem called for him, and he turned, face lighting up when he saw who it was that said his name.

“Rhalgr be praised! It’s good to see a familiar face in all this bustle. How fare you, Axzem?”

“Well enough. Spending my bells of leisure running errands for Tataru, as one does. What of you? How do you find Revenant’s Toll?”

“With _great fascination_ , truth be told. Little Ala Mhigo could learn much from Revenant's Toll. That this town can be so…” he paused, eyeing his surrounds with a slight grimace, “… _alive,_ in the midst of such desolation… ‘tis a sight to see. One sight of many to impress me since leaving home. Though I suppose I shall have to accustom myself to thinking of _here_ as ‘home’, now.”

“Certainly not the worst place to call home,” Axzem said, smiling as he looked about. “I’ve still some roots in Gridania, but with the Scions coming here, I spend much of my time here in Revenant’s Toll-- and more with each passing day.”

“Then we’ll be seeing more of each other in the days to come,” Wilred said, grinning and clapping Axzem on the back. “I cannot well express how much I am looking forward to it.”

“As am I,” Axzem said, coughing slightly. Wilred’s arm had not lost an onze of strength since he’d last knocked Axzem breathless with the gesture. “Though… on the subject of business, I would be remiss if I should forget the task that led me to seek you out in the first place.” He reached into the parcel and extracted one of the two remaining uniforms. “I’m to deliver _this_ to you. You’ll need to put it on before the ceremony.”

“Ah! The uniform! Yes, your secretary mentioned these when I was signing up.” Wilred took it and gave it a look. “I've never worn aught quite so… _voluminous_. Well, I'm sure I'll grow accustomed to the extra cloth in time.”

The thought hadn’t occurred to Axzem before, but he had been quite fond of Wilred’s armor, and he realized now that the uniform would be replacing it. It was a damnably irrational thought, he knew, and improper to boot, but still his smile dimmed slightly. Wilred noticed the change in his expression, though he seemed to misjudge the reason for it.

“'Tis not that I enjoy baring my skin, you understand. Thanalan was simply very hot.” He sighed. “Never mind.”

Axzem laughed. “No need to explain yourself, Wilred. If you want to change now, I’ve one more recruit to find, and then we can return to the Rising Stones together. What do you think?”

Wilred beamed once more. “I would be glad of your company. Just give me a moment…”

The two found a market stall for Wilred to duck behind, from which he emerged donning the uniform. It was a striking sight-- the shocking blue of the uniform against Wilred’s dark skin and bright halo of hair brought to mind a waxing crescent moon against the early evening sky.

“Well, out with it. Tell me what you think, and don’t spare my feelings if I look a fool.”

“Not in the slightest,” Axzem said, hardly able to avert his eyes. “You cut a dashing figure.”

“Ever the flatterer,” Wilred said, shaking his head with a wry grin. “Well, you’ve another recruit to find, haven’t you? Let’s be about it, then.”

The last recruit did not prove difficult to find either, if only because he was difficult to _miss,_ even if one wasn’t specifically seeking him out. He was a towering highlander, clad in a suit of scale mail, with dark skin and bone-white hair tied behind his head. Neither his aspect nor his expression seemed at home in the streets of Revenant’s Toll.

“Excuse me, sir. Are you Ilberd, perchance?”

“Aye, and who would you be?” Ilberd replied, looking him up and down. “Wait. I think I _do_ recognize you. You’re one of the Warriors of Light, aren’t you?”

Wilred patted Axzem on the back. “Axzem Hildegard, and no other,” he said, beaming.

Embarrassed, Axzem chuckled slightly, then bowed to the man. “At your service. I’m given to understand you’re here for the new Grand Company?”

“That I am. As you say, I am Ilberd, and I will have the honor of leading my fellow recruits as captain.” He stood up straight and gave a salute. “Much did I lose to the Calamity, and I look forward to aiding others in rebuilding their lives.”

“Then we have that in common. I look forward to working together in service to that goal. But at present, I am tasked with delivering _this_ to you,” Axzem said, handing the last uniform over to him.

“Ah, yes, very good,” the man said with a smile. “The uniforms are a shrewd decision. There is no easier method of creating a common bond among what is, essentially, a band of strangers.”

“I should hope you shan’t remain strangers for long,” Axzem said. “Speaking of which, perhaps I should introduce you to Wilred here.”

Wilred had been staring intently at Ilberd during the entire exchange, though he snapped to attention when Axzem said his name. “Wilred Glasse, sir,” he said, saluting.

“Ah, yes, I’d been meaning to ask about him. Already doing our company proud in that uniform, I see. Well met, Wilred.”

“Er, if you don’t mind me asking, sir,” Wilred ventured, “Would you happen to be Ala Mhigan?”

“Clocked my accent, did you?” Ilberd said with a laugh. “Aye, proud son of Ala Mhigo, though I’ve not been back there for a time-- for reasons I’m sure you can imagine. And if I’m not mistaken, you must be…”

“By blood, but not by birth, yes. My parents fled Ala Mhigo during the invasion, but I was born and raised in Little Ala Mhigo.”

“Refugees, then,” Ilberd said, nodding. “I was barely more than a refugee myself for a time, and I know what it is to be without hope.” He outstretched his hand to Wilred. “You have my word, Wilred: in the name of our shared homeland, I shall do my utmost to see this company succeed.”

Wilred’s grin was brighter than Axzem had seen it since meeting him that day. He took Ilberd’s hand and shook it vigorously. “As shall I, sir, to whatever extent I am able.”

Ilberd barked with laughter. “I’ve no doubt you’ll do fine, lad.”

* * *

There was already a group of recruits gathered in the Rising Stones when the two returned there, listening intently as Alphinaud spoke to them, presumably preparing them for the ceremony. He spotted Axzem and Wilred, and waved them over.

“You’ve come just in time,” he said. “I’ve devised a special salute for the members of our company to identify themselves with, and I would have our recruits be familiar with it before the ceremony begins.” He nodded to Wilred and turned to the group. “After me, if you would.”

Alphinaud performed the salute-- back straight, one arm behind the back, other arm in front, bent at the elbow, fist level to the face. The recruits practiced the gesture and Alphinaud offered minor corrections, but seemed satisfied with how quickly they caught on. Wilred turned to Axzem, and, beaming, performed the salute to him. Axzem gave his best attempt at returning the salute; Alphinaud admonished him to straighten his back, but smiled nevertheless.

“Very well, then,” he said after a while. “If you’ll excuse us, Axzem, I’ve some more preparations to run through with the recruits. We’ll be returning here at the appointed time.” He turned to leave, and the group of recruits obligingly followed. Wilred turned back and waved to Axzem as he left. Axzem smiled and nodded to him.

There was less than a bell left before the ceremony was scheduled to begin, and naught to fill the time with, so Axzem joined some of his fellow Scions around one of the tables-- Y’Shtola, Yda, and Papalymo-- where they enjoyed light conversation for a while.

“You’ve been busy as a bee today, haven’t you, Axzem?” Yda said. The highlander woman was one of the first Scions Axzem had met, shortly after he became an adventurer, and she had taken to a sort of breezy informality with him-- in stark contrast to her partner, Papalymo, who was rarely informal with anyone but Yda herself.

“Indeed,” Papalymo said, scratching his chin. “Hardly returned from Coerthas, and already running about doing errands for Tataru. Par for the course for you, I suppose, but one does get winded simply _watching_ you flit hither and yon at all bells of the day. I do hope you take the occasion to get _some_ rest.”

Axzem laughed. “Don’t worry, Papalymo; I’m more than ready to relax for a spell.”

“Pray pardon the impertinence,” Y’Shtola said, “but did your errands involve escorting that particular recruit about town?”

Axzem was caught on his back foot by the question. “Oh, Wilred? No, not as such-- he’s a friend of mine. I was delivering uniforms to the recruits, and we thought we’d return together.”

“Oh, just friends?” Yda said, tilting her head. “From the way you look at each other, I assumed you were more than that.”

Axzem flushed, and any reply he could muster caught in his throat.

“ _Yda!_ ” Papalymo shouted. “Do you know _nothing_ of decorum?”

“No, but you could introduce me, if you like,” Yda said, face aglow. “I do so enjoy making new friends!”

“No, it means-- _ugh_. Never mind. But _do_ endeavor not to pry into the private business of others, if you please. And that goes for you, too, Y’Shtola!” He glared at her. “You needn’t beg forgiveness for impertinent questions if you don’t ask any.”

“Papalymo, _please_ ,” Axzem interjected, his face still red. “There was no harm done. I’ll not begrudge my friends some curiosity on such matters.”

“Truth be told, I harbored the same suspicions as Yda,” Y’Shtola said with a wry smile as Papalymo continued to fume. “I’ll not pry any further, lest you worry, but you should know ‘tis plain to see for any who look upon you two together. Oft it is that those closest to matters of the heart are also the blindest to them. That is my advice to you.”

“ _Entirely unsolicited_ , it bears emphasizing!” Papalymo said in a huff.

“But appreciated nevertheless,” Axzem said, doing his best to mollify Papalymo’s annoyance.

Still, the exchange had given him much to think about.

* * *

When at last the time came for the inaugural ceremony to begin, the Scions stood up and moved to the side of the room as the recruits gathered at the fore of the room, near the entrance to the Solar. Alphinaud moved to the front of the group and looked at them all appraisingly, smiled, and cleared his throat.

“Comrades!” he began. “Your presence here this day signifies the momentous choice that each of you has made. With your strength now pledged to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, you are beholden to no single nation. You stand as the vanguard for a united Eorzea!”

He raised his fist to the sky, and the energy in his voice began to swell.

“From this moment forth, I declare you Crystal Braves! Let us mend this fractured realm, and face our enemies as one!”

There was a murmur of approval from the crowd, and several of the recruits cheered-- Wilred among them, Axzem noticed.

“Whether it be the beastmen and their Primals, or the conflict in Carteneau, it is plain that the nations of Eorzea cannot solve the problems which plague the realm. Thus does it fall to some few heroic souls to succeed where they have failed! Come-- take your place at the Scions' side as guardians of Eorzea! And together, we shall fight for the freedom of all!”

“For the freedom of all!” The recruits called out, saluting in unison.

The Crystal Braves… a reference to the Mothercrystal, Hydaelyn, perhaps? Whatever the inspiration, Axzem found that he quite liked the sound of the new name. He turned it over a few times in his head, and even whispered it under his breath, feeling the texture of the words.

He then felt a tap on his shoulder that pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Wilred looking back at him, a smile on his face as it often was.

“Alphinaud says our work will be officially starting tomorrow, but until then, we’re free to wander about as we will. And I don’t know about you, but I’m in a mood to wander.” He grasped Axzem’s arm. “There’s somewhere in particular I’d like to go. Come with me, won’t you?”

Axzem obliged, though Wilred all but pulled him by the arm. He led Axzem out the south gate of Revenant’s Toll, to North Silvertear, where the hauntingly beautiful glow of the region’s crystal growths softly illuminated the shores of Lake Silvertear.

Wilred picked out an outcropping at the lake’s shore some distance south of town and sat at the end of it, inviting Axzem to do the same.

“I’d been wanting to get a better look at this view ever since coming here,” he said. In the center of the lake before them, the Keeper of the Lake towered over all else-- the wreckage of an imperial airship stuck upright out of the water, with the dessicated corpse of a colossal dragon entwined around it-- forever locked in the final moments of their titanic battle.

“Do you know the story behind this thing?” Axzem asked him.

“No,” Wilred answered. “Only that the locals call it the Keeper of the Lake. I’ve not had the leisure to ask for more than that.”

“I myself know only part of it,” Axzem said, “but some fifteen years ago, there was a pitched battle between the XIVth legion and Midgardsormr, the father of all dragons, in the skies above Silvertear. ‘Twas the opening salvo in the Empire’s bid to invade Eorzea, and that ship-- the _Agrius_ \-- was their flagship. Midgardsormr struck it down, but in so doing, sustained a mortal blow himself. And thus did both of them come to rest in the center of Lake Silvertear, where they’ve remained ever since.”

Wilred stared at it for a while, mouth agape.

“The father of all dragons…” he breathed. “I’ve not had occasion to see even a normal dragon before, but this… it’s… it’s _huge_.”

“‘Tis even bigger than it looks from here, or so I’m told,” Axzem said with a laugh. “I’ve seen a dragon or two myself, but nothing like Midgardsormr. It fair defies all sense of scale.”

Wilred laughed incredulously. “You’ve seen a great many things, haven’t you?”

“Oh, a thing here, a thing there, you know.”

“Then I’m glad I’ve the chance to share one of them with you,” Wilred said, smiling. His gaze had turned away from the Keeper, and now locked with Axzem. “‘Tis thanks to you that I’m able to see such things-- first that I’m alive to see them, and now that I’ve joined the Crystal Braves. I think I’ll never be free of the debt I owe to you.”

“ _Debt_?” Axzem laughed. “You don’t owe me a thing, Wilred. I’ve said it before, and I shall say it again: I’m simply happy that you’re here at all. There’s nothing more to it.”

Wilred laced his arm around Axzem’s shoulder, and suddenly Axzem noticed that the two had drawn much closer over the course of their conversation. Wilred’s face, still staring intently at him, was now mere ilms away from his own.

“As am I,” he said. “There’s nowhere on this star I’d rather be than here next to you, Axzem Hildegard.”

With that, Wilred leaned in and kissed Axzem on the lips.

Axzem started at the sudden movement, but relaxed as Wilred gently massaged his shoulder. The shock of the kiss reverberated through his body, but gave way to a soft warmth in its wake. He closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss, letting his weight rest on Wilred’s body, placing his hand on his knee. He felt Wilred’s free hand close over his, gripping softly but insistently.

Then, all too soon, it was over. Wilred pulled back, his face still unbearably close to Axzem’s, gazing into his eyes with a reverence that made Axzem’s heart ache.

“Wilred…” Axzem was blushing furiously, and he could see that Wilred, too, had darkened several shades.

“I’m sorry I startled you,” Wilred said sheepishly. “Perhaps I should have asked first.”

“Wilred.” Axzem lifted his hand and placed it on Wilred’s cheek, softly stroking with his thumb. “Do me a favor. If ever you want to kiss me again, never, _ever_ ask first.”

“Yes, sir,” Wilred said as Axzem pulled him in for another kiss.

* * *

\- - - - -

* * *

In the days that followed, the two stole away whatever time they could-- between training sessions, missions, and sundry work for the Scions-- to be together. Sometimes it was a bell of leisure in the streets of Revenant’s Toll before Wilred retired to the company dormitory; sometimes Axzem would “requisition” the aid of a Crystal Brave in one of his missions, and he was always very particular about which one he would choose. Even work, they found, was more pleasurable when undertaken together.

More rarely, Wilred would travel to one of the major city-states on Braves business; when such work found him in Gridania, Axzem would steal him away in the evening, when business had concluded. It was one of the only times they were ever able to spend a night together.

Axzem had no permanent housing in the city, but he _had_ been awarded semi-permanent accommodations in the Roost, in return for faithful service to the Adventurers’ Guild. The cozy inn suite had become the closest thing he had to a home since becoming an adventurer. When Axzem could manage to find a night to spend with Wilred, the two would retire to the inn and fall into each other's arms.

"Axzem?" Wilred said sleepily. The two were locked in an embrace in Axzem's bed; the lights were off, Axzem was on his back in a pair of cotton trousers, with Wilred sprawled on top of him in only his smallclothes. 

"Mmh… What is it, Wil?" Axzem murmured blearily, roused from the edge of slumber by his lover's voice.

"D'you suppose… the Crystal Braves could help free Ala Mhigo?" he said, half mumbling. 

"What brought this on all of a sudden?" Axzem said, stroking Wilred's back and chuckling quietly. 

"Y'should know better than to ask that," Wilred said, slightly more lucid now. Axzem couldn't see his face, but the sliver of moonlight from the window traced a faint suggestion of his form in the darkness. "I think about it every day. When I'm not thinking about you, or about work, I think about Ala Mhigo. And I just thought…" He paused. "The big reason why the Flames, or the Adders, or the Maelstrom never came to help… was because the city-states couldn't afford to draw the attention of the Empire. If they couldn't all agree on a plan of attack, then they'd only put themselves in danger by trying to help at all. It's all politics, see?"

"Right," Axzem said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

"But the Braves, we're not representing a nation at all. We're politically neutral. No national interests to keep us from helping who needs helping, right?"

"To a point, yes," Axzem said, finally waking up. "But the Braves are still small. One Grand Company can't be reasonably expected to take on a conflict that would otherwise require the cooperation of three."

"There's more ways to help the resistance than open conflict. And besides, our ranks won't remain this small forever." 

"Mm. It's hard to deny that this is exactly the sort of thing the Braves were created for." Axzem paused to think about this for a while. "I can broach the subject with Alphinaud, if you like. He'll likely have the same concerns as I do, but if any would be sympathetic to the idea, it would be him."

Axzem felt Wilred's arms tighten around him. "Thank you." He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Axzem's lips. Axzem followed it up with another kiss on the cheek, running his fingers through Wilred's hair.

" _Gods_ , I can't believe I ever raised my sword to you," Wilred whispered, his voice trembling slightly and his grip tightening further. "Never again-- I promise you that. Or may Rhalgr strike me down where I stand." He laid his head back down on Axzem's chest. "I love you, Axzem."

"I love you, too, Wilred." He continued stroking the back of Wilred's head, and planted a kiss on his forehead. "I thank the Twelve every day that I was there to save you when you needed it. Truly they blessed me that day."

Wilred nuzzled the underside of Axzem's chin. "My guardian spirit. I work every day to get stronger so that _I_ might be the one to protect _you_ one day."

Axzem smiled and stroked the top of Wilred's head. "My brave knight."

Wilred sighed contentedly. "Good night, my love."

"Good night, Wil."

With that, the two drifted off to sleep, still cradled in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you came here looking for smut, then i regret to inform you that two boys cuddling in bed is as racy as this story is going to get.
> 
> DPS adjust.


	6. The Heavensward chronicle: Keeping The Flame Alive

### 6\. The Heavensward chronicle: Keeping The Flame Alive

Timeline

[3] Realm - [5] Brave - [2] Least (α) - [1] Corpse - [4] Ishgard -  **[6] Flame**

The Scions' stay in Ishgard did not even pass a week before news reached their ears from their homeland that required their attention. It was a harrowing week, to be sure, but that is a tale for another day. 

They had hardly stepped over the threshold of the city before Tataru stationed herself in the Forgotten Knight, the local tavern, there to apply her considerable talent for gathering intelligence to seek rumors of the missing Scions. Though her primary quarry yet eluded her, one grave piece of news did not. Raubahn Aldynn-- General of the Immortal Flames, erstwhile right hand of the Sultana, and staunch ally of the Scions, was to be executed. 

The last time they had seen him was at the ill-fated banquet, where he made his stand against the traitor-captain Ilberd and bid the Scions flee. It would seem that his stand ultimately ended in his arrest by the Brass Blades; his crime, the murder of Teledji Adeledji. 

Not that Adeledji didn't deserve it, of course. Not only had he orchestrated the assassination of the Sultana, he had also pinned the blame on the Scions. It was to the jingle of his coinpurse that the Crystal Braves had turned traitor, and to him that Ilberd answered. His victory had been all but sealed, before he made the fatal mistake of taunting Raubahn over the death of his beloved Sultana. 

Raubahn's blades fell upon him with a fearful swiftness, and before one could draw breath in surprise, Teledji Adeledji was no more. 

The same, unfortunately, could not be said of the Scions' troubles, nor less of the Flame General's-- for though Adeledji was gone, he was not the only member of the Syndicate present at the banquet. Though the Royalist half of Ul'dah's government had been cruelly cut down that night, the Monetarist half was none too happy with Raubahn's extra-judicial execution of one of their own, treasoner or no. By their authority, he was swiftly relieved of his command and summarily arrested. 

It was one thing to punish him for a crime he undeniably committed, and before a room full of witnesses at that; as much as Axzem misliked it, the case against Raubahn was practically airtight. But then there was the additional detail that the execution was to be carried out in secret. Was one execution without trial answerable with another under Ul'dahn law? Axzem knew little of the subject, but Alphinaud assured him it was not. 

"'Tis passing strange indeed, that they would go to such lengths to keep the execution under wraps," he mused. "One would think the Syndicate would stand only to _gain_ from the well-publicized trial and execution of such a central Royalist figure. The narrative is all but wrapped up and tied with a bow; the mad Royalist general flies into a rage and murders an innocent government official in a fit of grief over the young Sultana's death, leaving the Monetarists to swoop in and bring order to the chaos. 'Twould do much to solidify their claim to what remains of the Ul'dahn government. Mark my words-- there is another side to this, though as yet I know not what shape it may take." 

Had there been a trial, Raubahn would have found a bevy of character witnesses in the Scions-- to argue for his acquittal, or at least for a light sentence. But under present circumstances, there was no course but to intervene and save his life. The two trekked across the deserts of Eastern Thanalan under cover of night, bound for Halatali, where the Crystal Braves had reportedly moved Raubahn in preparation for his execution. They were shadowed at a distance by Higiri and Doware-- two of the Doman shinobi under Lady Yugiri's command-- who had first caught wind of the Braves’ movements, and were presently accompanying them to aid in their effort to stay the execution. 

“Do you suppose Ilberd had something to do with it?” Axzem wondered aloud. 

“Given that the execution is being carried out by the Crystal Braves-- highly suspicious all its own-- I should be quite surprised if he didn’t,” Alphinaud said, nodding sagely. “Mayhap this is his twisted way of settling a score.” 

By all accounts, Ilberd and Raubahn had been close friends once. But, though in front of Axzem Ilberd had feigned warmth for the man, Raubahn's time spent climbing the ranks of Ul'dahn society seemed to have planted a seed of resentment in Ilberd's heart that blossomed into hatred over the years. He had even outright accused Raubahn of abandoning their homeland, to say nothing of severing the man's arm in their duel at the banquet. The maneuver seemed calculated, to Axzem's eye; Ilberd could easily have subdued Raubahn without permanently disfiguring him, but he showed no such restraint. Far from burning bridges, it would seem their friendship had already been naught but cinders for a long time. 

Execution seemed a harsh penance to pay for the crime of being insufficiently devoted to Ala Mhigan liberation, but Axzem knew better than to underestimate Ilberd more than he already had. Not that Raubahn's devotion to his homeland was in any doubt-- not to anyone other than Ilberd-- one need only see the barely-concealed pride with which he still bore the nickname "The Bull of Ala Mhigo" to know beyond doubt that his love for his homeland still burned bright. If he failed to act in its defense, it was not through apathy or indolence; though the Flame General's station afforded him uncommon power, Axzem had witnessed how it bound his hands in equal measure. 

Well, his hands were not like to be bound any longer, he thought grimly. 

A narrow ravine, cut into the side of the rock wall dividing Eastern and Central Thanalan, marked the entrance to Halatali. Higiri and Doware melted into the shadows cast by the crags and vanished from sight; Alphinaud cast his glance about, searching for the contact they had come to rendezvous with. 

Though shinobi are experts at self-concealment, one cannot help but find one who wants to be found. True to form, a dark shape emerged from behind an indentation in the rock wall-- Axzem recognized him as Hozan, another of Yugiri's shinobi. He motioned for them to approach. 

"Master Hildegard. Master Leveilleur. As expected, the entrance is presently guarded by a detachment of Crystal Braves; we may find sufficient cover in this ravine to conceal us from their eyes until Lady Yugiri joins us anon." 

He slipped behind a dilapidated archway carved into the walls of the ravine, and Axzem and Alphinaud followed closely behind. Axzem caught a momentary glimpse of the ultramarine blue of a Crystal Braves uniform beyond their hiding place, and quickened his steps to avoid being seen. Hozan carefully peeked out at the entrance, then drew back into hiding and put a finger to his lips, bidding them to stay silent. 

Axzem stood stock still, hardly even breathing, eyes trained on the path leading out of Halatali and past their hiding place. He felt sure that a guard would wander out and spot them, but true to Hozan's word, they never did. Before long, he heard the subtlest sound of disturbed sand from behind them, and turned to see Yugiri Mistwalker alighting on the ground from above. 

"Pray forgive me my lateness," she said quietly, giving a shallow bow. 

"Lady Yugiri!" Alphinaud said, voice barely above a whisper. 

The Au Ra shinobi known as Yugiri was a steadfast ally of the Scions ever since they had aided her and her envoy of Doman refugees to find purchase in Eorzea, while fleeing Garlean occupation in their homeland. As it turned out, she was a vassal of a Doman lord-- and a ninja of no small skill besides, leading a small army of Doman shinobi under her charge. Even in their exile, Lady Yugiri had proven to be one of the Scions' most powerful assets. 

"Master Alphinaud." She smiled at the sight of him. "I am pleased to see that the light of resolve shines in your eyes once more." 

"Ah. Yes." Alphinaud's smile turned sheepish. "How pathetic I must have seemed to you when we last met. I am ashamed to recall it. For a time I was well and truly lost. But with the aid of my comrades, I have since refound my purpose, and I shall take care not to misplace it again." 

Neither Axzem nor Alphinaud had seen Yugiri since the aftermath of the banquet. At the time, he was in less than high spirits-- the betrayal of the Crystal Braves, the company he had so proudly and laboriously founded, still as a fresh wound in his back. He was in shock, utterly disconsolate, and may well have lost hope if not for the steadfast loyalty of allies like Haurchefant and Yugiri. 

Yugiri's smile was faint but glowing. She looked to Axzem, her aspect dimming somewhat. "Since your escape from Ul’dah, my fellow shinobi and I have shadowed the Crystal Braves’ every step, in hopes of learning the Scions’ whereabouts. Regrettably, our investigation has yet to yield any useful information. Pray forgive us." 

Axzem shook his head. "Forgive you for what? Laboring so tirelessly for our sake, neither hesitating nor asking anything in return?" 

"Quite," Alphinaud said. "You need not apologize, my lady-- we are grateful for all that you have done on our behalf. And besides, Raubahn is no less a friend, and we cannot well abandon him to his fate." 

"We owe our survival as much to him as we do to you-- no small amount, I should think," Axzem said. "And besides," he added, smiling wryly, "if Ilberd means to make a trophy of our friend's head, I am ill inclined to allow him the satisfaction." 

Yugiri nodded. "Very well. Then let us be about it." She turned to Hozan. "The three of us shall attend to the Flame General’s rescue. Pray draw away the guards by the entrance. Take Doware and Higiri with you." 

Hozan nodded. He turned and leapt away with blinding speed, so swift that Axzem lost sight of him. Yugiri held out her hand to bid them wait for a moment, and listened carefully. Axzem and Alphinaud followed her lead, straining to hear anything in the dead silence of the desert night. 

After a few seconds, there was the unmistakable sound of a struggle from the entrance of the ruins, punctuated by two pained cries. Then, as quickly as the noise had begun, silence returned. 

"With me!" Yugiri cried, and took off at a run. Axzem and Alphinaud eyed each other, nodded, and followed. 

All seemed quiet at the entrance to Halatali. Axzem cast his eyes about the scene curiously. He spotted a small sliver of ultramarine in the shadow of a nearby rock, finding it belonged to the unconscious form of one of the guards-- barely visible in the dark. Hozan and the others had done quick work. 

"The shinobi will remain here to ensure that we are not interrupted," Yugiri said, approaching the now unguarded door. "Still, let us endeavor not to linger overlong. Our present circumstances will not permit us the luxury of leisure." 

They met with surprisingly little resistance; a guard here and there, each quickly dispatched, but the halls of Halatali were otherwise largely empty. 

Eventually Yugiri stopped and waved them down a side path, one of several leading into a large open space that looked like an arena. Axzem had heard tell that the ruins, once a holy place for the early settlers of Thanalan, had later been repurposed into a training ground before once again being abandoned. This chamber seemed to be one of the later additions. At the far end of the arena, cloaked in an opalescent dome of aetheric energy, was Raubahn. 

The Bull of Ala Mhigo sat hunched on the dusty brick floor, eyes trained downward. While still a towering monolith of a man, he was much diminished compared to when Axzem had last seen him-- bedraggled, emaciated, clothed in grimy rags, the stump of his severed arm sloppily dressed with a few threadbare scraps of gauze stained with dried blood. He did not seem to be aware of their presence. 

"Raubahn!" Alphinaud called out. It took several tries before Raubahn registered any kind of response. He lifted his head slowly, as if with great effort, and spoke quietly-- voice cracking with disuse. 

"Folly. There's naught left to be done for me. Quit this place and save yourselves." 

"We'll be having none of that," Alphinaud said, bending down to look at him at eye level. 

Axzem rapped the force field with his staff, testing its resilience. There was a loud crackle and fizz of discharged energy, and his weapon was repelled with much greater force than he had struck with. 

"I suppose we can safely discard the direct approach," he said, crossing his arms. 

"'Tis being projected by some manner of magitek device," Yugiri said, inspecting the device at the field's perimeter. "I dare not force it open; it may well be booby-trapped." 

Alphinaud came around to take a closer look at the field generator. His hand brushed a small, paper-thin slit in the side of the device, scarcely more than an ilm long, and he leaned in to size it up. "I wonder," he said, and reached into his pocket. He extracted a small, rectangular sheet of cermet, no larger than his palm. "This card was being carried by one of the guards we incapacitated on the way in. I recognized it as Garlean technology, and thought we might find use for it. If I don't miss my guess…" 

He carefully slipped the card into the slot. It fit perfectly, and a panel on the side of the generator hummed to life. Alphinaud inspected the panel and pressed a button that had begun glowing red. Instantly, the energetic thrumming of the machine stuttered to a stop, and the force field flickered and winked out. 

"Success!" Alphinaud pumped his fists. 

"Ever resourceful, master Alphinaud," Yugiri said with a nod and a smile. "Your keen eye has won us the day." 

"Let us not count it won just yet," a voice said from behind. The three whirled around to see who had spoken. 

A lalafell man with a smirk permanently plastered on his face sauntered into the room, followed by a dark-haired midlander man carrying a spear. They both wore Crystal Braves uniforms, and Axzem recognized them immediately as Yuyuhase Luluhase and Laurentius Daye. 

The three quickly formed a defensive perimeter around Raubahn, who was once again unresponsive. Swift as the crack of a whip, Yugiri drew her daggers, but Axzem could do little but clench his fists. 

"You weren't thinking of letting this man evade his lawful punishment, were you?" Yuyuhase tittered. "My, my, I should hope not. General Aldynn-- that is to say, _former_ General Aldynn-- is both a murderer and a treasoner. To let him go free would be an affront to every man and woman of Ul'dah-- though 'tis small wonder his Scion accomplices should hold as little respect for the rule of law as the General himself." 

"And who, exactly, crowned _you_ and your ilk the arbiters of Ul'dahn law?" Alphinaud demanded. 

Yuyuhase shrugged. “Why, the Syndicate, of course. Have you forgotten so quickly who we were working for?” 

“Teledji Adeledji is dead,” Alphinaud said. “You’ll not be receiving any more of his coin for your misguided loyalty.” 

Yuyuhase laughed. “More fool you, for assuming _his_ was the only Syndicate coin our loyalty could barter for. A shrewd businessman always has his hands in more than one pot, after all.” 

“Is this _really_ necessary?” Laurentius said nervously. 

Yuyuhase sighed and rolled his eyes. “No eye for flair, this one.” 

A large form loomed in the entrance behind them. 

“I’m inclined to side with Laurentius,” Ilberd said as he stepped into the room. “That’s quite enough of your barking, little hound. Talking their ears off will avail us little unless you can _also_ talk off their legs.” 

Ilberd Feare, captain of the Crystal Braves, stood with his subordinates, blade at his side and a cold sneer on his face. The sight set Axzem’s blood to boiling, and he could hold his peace no longer. 

“Which one of you did it.” 

Axzem stepped forward and stared, stone-faced, at the three Braves as his question hung in the air. 

“What’s that?” Ilberd said quizzically. 

“ _Which. One of you. Did it._ ” Axzem’s voice was level, but with a barely-concealed tremor. 

“Speak plainly, lad. Did what?” Ilberd demanded. 

“Private Wilred Glasse, of the Third unit of the Crystal Braves, was murdered in cold blood by one of his compatriots, and left for dead in the waters of Urth’s Gift.” Axzem spoke methodically, as if he were reading a list of charges from a court document. “I would know by whose blade he was slain.” 

Several seconds passed in silence. Laurentius averted his gaze, and Ilberd studied Axzem carefully. Finally, Yuyuhase broke the silence with raucous laughter. 

“ _That’s_ what this is about?” He guffawed. “The little whelpling? Goodness _me_ , with all this sound and fury, you had me thinking it was something _serious_. How in the seven hells could we be expected to keep track of every--” 

“Hold your tongue,” Ilberd interrupted. He stepped forward and met Axzem's gaze. His expression was of tempered steel. 

"I'm the one you want," he said. "I killed the boy." 

Axzem's teeth clenched, and his hands shook. "Explain yourself," he managed to say, through gritted teeth. 

Ilberd sighed. "What's there to explain?" he said, shaking his head. "He found us out. We could ill afford to have our whole scheme laid bare before we had the chance to spring our trap. I took no joy in cutting him down-- utter godsdamned waste-- but I did what needed to be done." 

"So you lured him to Urth's Gift and slew him, all to keep your little plot a secret." 

"Lured him? Hardly. 'Twas Wilred who called _me_ there." 

" _Damn_. Of course," Alphinaud said. "There was no one in the Braves Wilred trusted more than Ilberd-- not even me, I am sorry to say. If he suspected corruption from within our ranks, it stands to reason that Ilberd is who he would turn to first. Much to his detriment, as fate would have it." 

"But why?" Axzem demanded. "What's it all _for?_ What was so important about your damned scheme that Wilred had to die for it?" 

"You know perfectly well what for!" Ilberd snarled. "The same bloody thing I've been fighting for _all my damned life!_ I've finally been handed the chance to strike a blow for Ala Mhigo. With Rhalgr as my witness, I will do _anything_ to seize it! Even if it means taking dirty money-- or killing a few interlopers." 

"He wanted the same thing as you, you _viper!_ " Axzem spat. "I never knew anyone so committed to Ala Mhigan liberation as Wilred was. You would have me believe you were furthering your goals by killing him? Don't make me _laugh!_ " 

"Aye, he was a true son of Ala Mhigo, I'll not deny that," Ilberd said. "But his commitment to the cause was not so unswaying as you claim." 

"What exactly do you mean to say?" Axzem said. 

"I gave him a chance, you see. I told him what we were fighting for. Offered to let him in. He'd have a chance to fight for the freedom of his homeland, and earn a pretty gil besides. All he'd have to do was relinquish his other loyalties-- to Eorzea, and to the Scions. Do you know how he answered?" Ilberd laughed. "Spat in my face, he did." 

Axzem's grip on his staff tightened until his knuckles ached, but he could not speak. 

"Credit where it's due: the boy had balls of steel. Couldn't help but respect that. But his loyalty to the Scions-- or to _you_ , I'd wager-- outweighed his loyalty to Ala Mhigo. And you can't expect me to sympathize with _that._ " 

"How perfectly vile," Alphinaud said darkly. "His vision of liberation failed to match with yours, and so he could not be suffered to live." 

"Don't presume to lecture me, boy!" Ilberd growled. "You haven't the first idea what's at stake. In the real world, not everything can be so pretty and tied up with a bow-- or haven't we taught you that lesson already?" 

Alphinaud grimaced. "Indeed," he said. "A lesson all too well learned, if not from my first choice of teachers." 

"Not a _one_ of you truly understands the stakes. If you did, we wouldn't be here-- fighting over _that_ traitorous filth," Ilberd said, pointing his sword to Raubahn, still sitting mute on the floor. 

"Don't be so quick to tell me what I do and don't understand," Axzem said levelly. "I come from Ala Mhigan stock myself. My father is one of your countrymen, or did you forget?" 

"You?" Ilberd laughed. " _You_ , Ala Mhigan? Don't _insult_ me, lad. If you're Ala Mhigan, I'm a godsdamned moogle." His eyes narrowed. "No. I know who you are, Axzem Hildegard. Coddled child of the Twelveswood, suckled on the teat of Her bounteous material wealth, never knowing what it's like to live under the shadow of our Garlean masters-- praying that if you pay your dues they won't beat you or kill you for sport-- hoping you'll have enough left that you and your family won't starve. 'Tis by mere accident of fate that you happen to have a few drops of Ala Mhigan blood in your veins, not that you can be arsed to understand what that _means_ \-- how much of that blood has been spilled, how many of our countrymen have fought and suffered and _died_ in the hopes that our sons and daughters might one day be free. Your lofty ideals and petty vendettas mean less than _nothing_ next to that. Do not soil our name or our legacy by presuming to lay claim to them." 

For all his righteous indignation, Axzem was deflated by Ilberd's tirade. He was silent for a while before speaking up again. 

"Perhaps you're right. There is much and more I may never understand. But Wilred _did_ understand. He wasn't born under the Empire's thumb, but he bore the generational scars of their cruelty-- living as a refugee in the very land he was born in, dreaming of one day fighting to free the homeland he had never known." Axzem sighed. "'Tis a pity he is not here to speak in your defense. In his absence, his final act will have to suffice as testimony. If Wilred saw fit to spit on your ambitions, then so too do I." 

Ilberd readied his sword. "Finally we get around to what we're all here for." 

Axzem closed his eyes. "Pray that the Twelve yet have mercy for you, Ilberd, for mine is spent." 

He slammed the butt of his staff on the floor. A column of earth erupted diagonally from the ground in front of Ilberd, striking him square in the chest and knocking him back several fulms. He fell to his knees, the wind knocked out of him. Axzem clapped his hand on his staff, and a small fissure opened beneath Ilberd, closing over his legs and binding him in place. 

He wheezed for a moment before barking, "Don't just stand there gawping, you idiots!" 

Laurentius and Yuyuhase drew their weapons and closed ranks in front of their captain. Axzem no longer had a clear shot at Ilberd, and even with him out of the picture, he was still outnumbered as the two Braves converged on him. 

Yuyuhase was the faster of the two, faster even than Axzem had expected; before he could quite react, the nimble Brave was already lunging to attack. Small frame notwithstanding, Axzem knew a lalafellin swordsman could still easily swing a blade with lethal force; but in that fraction of a second, there was little he could do but brace himself. 

Suddenly, a blinding white light shone from behind, and a barrier of light sprang to life around Axzem's body to catch the blow. A resounding _clang_ sounded as Yuyuhase's blade bounced off the barrier, and a small knee-high creature, white-furred and glowing softly, bounded out and assumed a defensive stance before him. Axzem recognized the creature as Alphinaud's Moonstone Carbuncle. 

"Hardly a fair fight, wouldn't you say?" Alphinaud said, grimoire at the ready and still humming with aether from the summoning spell-- cast not a second too soon, it would seem. "I shall attend this one, if you would be so kind as to take Laurentius. Lady Yugiri-- pray take Raubahn to safety. He is in no fit state to defend himself, and we shan't be able to keep our eyes on him with our attention thus occupied." 

"As you say. I trust that you shall hold the line until I return." She draped Raubahn's arm over her shoulder, and, with shocking speed and strength, led him out with her at a full sprint. Ilberd cursed her as she passed, invoking the name of Rhalgr as well as several obscenities that hardly bear repeating. 

Axzem turned his attention to Laurentius, who stood with his spear at the ready but seemed to be hesitating. Sensing an opportunity, Axzem addressed him. "Is this how you really intend to spend your new lease on life?" he said. 

Laurentius shook his head. "This isn't how I imagined it, true enough. I must seem quite ungrateful." 

Laurentius had been a Wood Wailer, one of the Gridanian city guard, when he and Axzem first met-- whereupon he was disgraced and cast out of the guard for selling secrets to the XIVth Imperial Legion. Axzem wouldn't see him again until coming to Gridania to recruit for the Crystal Braves; Laurentius approached him, repentant, and earnestly apologized for what he had done. Axzem was moved, and extended an offer to join the Braves, hoping that it might help to mend his tarnished reputation. Laurentius happily accepted. 

"For what it's worth, Axzem, I am sorry. I wish I could still pay you back for the mercy you showed me, but the time for that has passed. Instead, think of this as paying it forward. I truly believe in Captain Ilberd's cause. What I do here, I do for the greater good." 

"You've chosen a poor venue to plead the case for your virtue, Laurentius," Axzem said coolly. "There's still a chance we can spare you, but I can only do that if you _stand aside. Please_." 

Laurentius's stance tightened. "I won't." 

"Quite right," Yuyuhase chirped. "There's little profit in abandoning one's principles, I say." He and Alphinaud were still at a standoff, but they both seemed to be waiting to see the outcome of the parley. 

"Easily said, when one's only principle _is_ profit," Alphinaud said icily. 

Yuyuhase shrugged. "Was that meant as an insult? How very droll. You know better than anyone that I _pride_ myself on my eye for profit." He looked about. "But it would seem we are at an impasse. A sporting attempt, but I'm afraid you won't avoid a fight any longer." 

At that moment, Ilberd finally managed to wrest himself from his prison of earth. He dove for his sword and jumped to his feet, holding the weapon at the ready. "Still doing naught but running your gobs," he grumbled. "If I’m the only one here willing to swing a godsdamned blade, then so be it.” 

With nearly inhuman speed, Ilberd charged at Axzem and swung his sword. Axzem barely managed to block the attack with his staff, but Laurentius leapt at the opening and thrust his spear, catching Axzem in the shoulder. Bright-hot pain lanced through him and he clutched the wound with his free hand, turning his staff on his assailant. Aetheric energies coalesced and formed a powerful jet of water, blowing Laurentius onto his back several yalms away. 

Axzem began quickly weaving a healing spell to close the wound as blood seeped through his fingers. Ilberd did not wait for him to finish-- he heaved his sword and lunged again, blade aimed straight at Axzem's neck. 

A blur of purple and black breezed between them, and suddenly Yugiri was there-- parrying the blow and repelling Ilberd's sword with a flick of her twin daggers. 

"Immaculate timing, as always, Lady Yugiri," Axzem said. 

Yugiri gave a curt nod. "Given the choice, I would sooner have stopped the blade before it began swinging-- but one does what one can," she said. "I gather Ilberd is your primary quarry, so I shall leave him to you, master Hildegard. Pray allow me to occupy the lancer in your stead." 

"All too happy to oblige," Axzem said, turning his attention to Ilberd. Though blood still stained his shoulder and glove, the wound was healed and he was ready to fight at full strength once again. Each of the three of them were now matched with one of the three Braves-- Alphinaud with his Carbuncle faced Yuyuhase, Yugiri clashed with Laurentius, and Axzem confronted Ilberd. 

On the field of battle, Ilberd was cool-headed and methodical, though Axzem could tell that a white-hot rage bubbled just beneath the surface-- his attacks seemed to aim not just to kill or incapacitate, but to maim and inflict pain. He had kept this side of himself carefully hidden while he and Axzem had worked together, but with a chill Axzem recalled how Ilberd had cleanly severed Raubahn's arm during the battle at the banquet, as casually as one might shuck an ear of corn. That was the Ilberd who faced him now, and Axzem found him thoroughly unnerving. 

His own offense consisted of a steady barrage of magicked stone and cutting winds, aiming to batter and exhaust Ilberd-- the Echo allowed him to evade his foe's attacks with preternatural accuracy, so he was certain he had the advantage in a battle of attrition. Still, it was not a victory Ilberd would hand him readily; his strikes were calculated and unrelenting, to the point that even mild precognition could not trivialize them. 

In the end, Axzem's instincts were born out in fact: Ilberd was not able to sustain his aggressive offense, and before long he was clearly flagging. Nearly spent, he seemed to finally realize Axzem's strategy. 

"Gods _damn_ it all," he spat, panting heavily. His compatriots, too, seemed at the end of their ropes. "This changes nothing!" 

"It is over, Ilberd," Alphinaud declared. "Lay down your arms and surrender to justice." 

"Justice!" Ilberd wheezed. "Justice for _what_ , exactly? 'Twas not I who assassinated the Sultana, boy." 

Alphinaud scratched his chin and thought for a moment, then seemed to come to a conclusion. 

"Ere we debate _who_ is responsible for the assassination," he said coolly, " _I_ would ask whether an assassination took place at all." 

Axzem was unsure he had even heard Alphinaud correctly, but Ilberd, for his part, looked gobsmacked. "Clever little _shite_ ," he grumbled. He shot a withering glare at Axzem. 

"If you think you fight for justice, lad, you'd best wake up. The truth is, you fight for whoever _bloody well tells you to!_ Can you not see you’re being used!? By the Scions, the city-states, even the Crystal Braves. They _none_ of ‘em care a whit what you want-- only what you can do for them." 

"You, _you_ of all people, want to lecture me about trust? You would tell me not to trust my allies? My _friends?_ " Axzem crossed his arms. "You'll have to excuse me if I weigh the evidence and find your ideas about trust and loyalty wanting." 

"Oh, I know better than you dare imagine," Ilberd said. "Why? Because I’m the same-- a pawn to be used as my masters see fit. All I ever wanted was to liberate my homeland, and I ate _dirt_ to make it happen. But what have I achieved after all these years in servitude? Nothing. _Not a bloody thing!_ " 

He swiped his sword at the air in frustration, then pointed it at Axzem. 

"I've one last thing to say to you. When next you see that blood traitor, give him a message from me-- and pay attention, because I won't repeat myself. If we ourselves are not free-- free to think and to act-- how are we ever to reclaim our homeland? Know this: there is nothing I would not give to take back Ala Mhigo! NOTHING!” 

Ilberd sheathed his sword and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small object Axzem couldn't identify at a glance. He threw the object at the ground, and a blinding flash of light rendered the world in pure white before Axzem's eyes. He was forced to cover his eyes, and he could see nothing but stars for several seconds after the flash had receded. When at last he could resolve his vision into a scene he could comprehend, the three Braves were already on the run-- Ilberd shooting a smug grin back over his shoulder. 

"Twelve _take_ you, you--" Axzem cursed and took off after them. 

"You'll not get away!" Alphinaud shouted, bounding along with him. 

Yugiri easily outpaced both of them, keeping a tight tail on the fleeing Braves. But, though Axzem wasn't sure if his eyes were deceiving him, as they weaved through the winding paths and corridors, it almost seemed as though she were intentionally slowing her pace to match Ilberd's rather than trying to catch him. 

Her intent soon became clear when they reached the entryway, and she suddenly halted her pursuit. 

"Hold," she said. 

"Lady Yugiri? Ilberd is escaping. We must--" 

"Forgive me, Master Alphinaud, but there is a more pressing matter that we must attend to." She slipped into an alcove nearby. Axzem and Alphinaud followed, finding Raubahn hidden in the alcove just out of sight from the main thoroughfare. 

Yugiri reached her hand out. "General Aldynn. You are lucid?" 

"Aye… more or less, I think." He took her hand, and she helped him to his feet. He looked over the three of them and hung his head. "I'm but a cripple and a fool, and still you came for me. I'm in your debt." 

Alphinaud shook his head and chuckled. "We are all of us fools of fate, General. But even fools have a part to play." 

Axzem smiled. "We've been beaten and broken, but not swayed. We stand with you, General." 

Raubahn laughed. "Rest assured, I was not planning to die till I'd avenged the Sultana. Still, your words are welcome, lad." 

"General," Alphinaud said, his tone suddenly businesslike. "Are you aware that Lord Lolorito has yet to announce the Sultana's death to the public?" 

Raubahn seemed genuinely taken aback. "What? No. No, I was not aware of that-- nor of anything else outside my cell. 'Tis passing strange, though… I assumed the bastard would make it known at the first opportunity, and set about tearing down the sultanate." 

"As did we all," Alphinaud said, nodding. "And it is indeed strange that he did not. Strange-- or perhaps revealing?" He crossed his arms. "Now, I have no conclusive proof, nor do I wish to give you false hope, but I have reason to believe that Her Grace may yet live." 

If Raubahn was surprised before, it was nothing to his shock now. " _What_? But… how can that be?" 

Yugiri cleared her throat. "Forgive me, friends, but it is not safe here. Let us continue this conversation without." 

"Agreed," Alphinaud said. "We should keep to small groups so as not to attract unwanted attention. Let us reconvene at the Waking Sands, and I shall apprise you all of my suspicions anon." 

From there, the four split into three groups-- Axzem and Alphinaud alone, and Yugiri escorting Raubahn, who was yet unarmed and unsure of his footing. 

Before departing, however, Yugiri stopped Alphinaud briefly. She looked about, ensuring that Axzem had already left, and spoke at a whisper. "Master Alphinaud. I have never before seen Master Hildegard taken by such rage. Is all well?" 

Alphinaud was quiet for a moment. "I am unsure," he said at length. "In all honesty, I, too, have never witnessed this side of him before. It was… singularly unsettling." 

Yugiri nodded. "His fury burns subtly, but 'tis a subtle flame that is most like to spark a wildfire. Perhaps it would be prudent to avoid engineering any further encounters with sir Ilberd before we are sure Master Hildegard will not set himself aflame at the sight of the man." 

"I concur," Alphinaud said. "With Raubahn safe, we should have little to distract us from our primary goal of locating our missing friends. Ilberd need not figure into the equation at all, for a time." He shook his head. "I know not what storm rages in Axzem's heart, but I am certain that revenge will not be what quells it, when all is said and done. I can only pray that time will suffice instead." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writer's block is an EX primal and i am the pug group that has wiped 10 times and still refuses to vote abandon
> 
> hi, i've been thinking about ilberd. have you been thinking about ilberd? here's a song to listen to while you think about ilberd: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mujf5kKSBMw


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